


After Hell on Earth

by Fablegate



Category: Doom (2016) - Fandom, Doom (Video Games), Doom Eternal - Fandom
Genre: And like, M/M, Slow Burn, flashbacks and nightmares to usual demon killing, nothing too bad, slight disfiguring of cyborgs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22278427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fablegate/pseuds/Fablegate
Summary: It's over. Earth has survived the invasion of Hell and Samuel Hayden has quite the mess to clean up. As for the Doom Slayer, he's having quite the time coping with the fact that he really did kill every last demon.So what happens now?
Relationships: Doom Slayer/Samuel Hayden
Comments: 29
Kudos: 297





	1. His (God-damned) Voice Box

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this like...early/mid 2019? After I played through Doom 2016 a second time. I had started thinking what would happen if Doom Slayer really did kill every last demon. The idea fascinated me to no end so this fic kinda goes off that. 
> 
> Also Hayden is here because I really liked him and I don't know what Eternal has in store for him yet. 
> 
> EDIT: GUESS WHO JUST PLAYED DOOM ETERNAL WHO BOY THAT'S DEFINITELY NOT GONNA AFFECT THE PLOT
> 
> Another reason, I'm posting what I have now before Eternal comes out is because I don't want it influencing this fic. Because I already know this fic will be leap-frogging away from canon.

What rancid smells his suit could not filter out, his nose had long since become numb to. The smell of blood and burnt flesh all too familiar to him. The same blood that drips off his armor. The same flesh ripped and torn from demonic bodies in his own hands. 

But now the blood had been cleaned. The bodies standing before him now human. And the room...smelled of mint. 

The doctors in the room talked amongst themselves. No. Talk isn't the right word. No one just "talked" around him. This was hushed and nervous chatter made in attempt to drown out the silence he often brought into a room nowadays. 

Silence seemed to be all he could bring since the Hell Portal was closed. 

It wasn't how he imagined this ending. 

He imagined himself collapsing to the ground, bleeding out from his wounds with the very last demon's skull crushed in his hands. He's never imagined different. Never imagined a hand to reach through the portal. To reach for him and pull him back to Earth. 

Or for that hand to belong to the very cyborg he had maimed not even a day before. 

The very cyborg he wanted to maim again, honestly. 

But that aside, despite what he imagined-despite what he planned- the Doom Slayer survived. And now, in the days after Hell on Earth... 

“Slayer.” He refused to physically acknowledge the cyborg now approaching him after speaking to the doctors. If he did there was a good chance he was going to rip the new arms and legs Hayden had recently gotten attached. “I see you’ve yet to remove your armor.” 

The doctors had tried removing his suit once. Only once. One of them had put a hand on his arm to remove the gauntlets. 

He looked at the doctor. 

The doctor looked at him. 

He raised a hand. 

Everyone in the room flinched. 

He gently pried the hand off his arm and let the doctor go. 

No one tried removing his suit again. 

“I think we both know how counterproductive this is to your health, and...hygiene.” His voice now sounded even more machine than before...and was no less grating to hear. “And I’ve been told, by the doctors set to watch your progress, they have yet to see you tend to your own wounds.” 

His voice box.   
  
“Now, I do not doubt your...durability.” 

He should have ripped out his damn voice box. 

“But even you will succumb to open wounds.” 

The only thing still organic about Hayden was his brain, right? 

“....” 

Probably wouldn’t even feel it if he- 

“Slayer.” A robotic hand was on his shoulder and that had decided it. 

It was possibly the most quick and clean sort of dismemberment he’d ever done. No chunks of meat, no masses amount of various liquids spurting from the wound. Just a chunk of crackling metal in his hand. 

As for the cyborg, there was credit due, he needed only help in standing back up. And after he was back on metallic feet, with a hand to cover the fist sized hole in his neck, the cyborg left the room without so much as a hitch in his step. 

The doctors were rather quick to leave as well. 

Maybe being only able to bring silence now wasn’t so bad. 

\-------- 

_That went better than I had anticipated._ Hayden actually thought as he made his way down the hall. He’d caught the eyes of several doctors and employees which wasn’t unusual for him but now it was certainly granted considering his neck was currently sparking beneath his hand. But as always, he strode with a confidence that warranted no inquiry to his well-being from others. 

This UAC Medical Facility was already housing over thousands of civilians. And it wasn’t the only one. There were at least three other non-medical facilities in this city alone being used as shelter. Earth, and several other human colonies, were in shambles. Streets and cities still mangled and disfigured by the blood and carnage of Hell. But humanity had survived. 

No matter the continuous ticks of the death counter on his computer screen. 

Humanity survived. 

Now it was up to him to make sure it kept surviving. 

Hayden could ignore his voice box for now. He’d already diverted the energy away from the damaged area to stop the sparking. It would need repairing, eventually. Now he needed to focus on the screen in front of him. Make calls. Send messages. Get back into contact with any of the UAC management who was still alive. 

All argent energy stocks were currently being rationed between all UAC facilities as well as separate hospitals and shelters. Hayden would almost say it was a miracle there was as much energy as there was left to go around, were he not already accustom to the miracle that is argent energy. Even so...currently everything was running purely on stock. They needed more. Everyone still needed that energy. 

He held no delusions that all of the remaining UAC faculty would just gladly give him the resources to return to Mars. Two influential members already replied to his request calling him “madman” as well as several forms of derogatory names that he as a cyborg should probably take offense to. 

But as he scanned through his inbox and voicemail there was one that seemed promising.... 


	2. The Alarm Clock Protocol

_ Bones crushed and turn to dust beneath his feet. The sound of screams and the ripping flesh so loud and clear in his ears, somewhere to his left. Red filled his vision. Pure, unrelenting red.  _

“Warning: Heart rate increasing.”

_ Blood covered him, filled his veins. Pumped through him with an energy and rage that never died. There was no stopping. No rest. No matter how many times he was killed. How many times he was sent  _ _ back. _

_ An imp skull was torn in half by his hands. _

_ There was no stopping. _

_ A hell knight, a pinkie, a baron,  _ _ mancubus _ _ , summoner...All fell in his wake. _

“Blood pressure rising.”

_ There was no stopping. _

_ The Titan rose from the earth. _

_ There was no stopping. _

“Initiating alarm clock protocol.” A mechanical voice rang in his ear before a sudden jolt went through his veins. Not the natural kind, like your body waking you from a nightmare. The electric kind currently being administered through his suit. Considering how many times he’d been  electrified; it was a proportionally small amount.

But  it was enough to wake the Doom Slayer. 

He lifted his head and he was back in the clean, white room that still smelled too much like mint.

“This marks the fifth night now in which you’ve experienced night terrors and have required manual wakening.” Said the artificial voice within his helmet. “Might I suggest that perhaps sleeping in the corner is not the most ideal position for achieving optimal sleep.” 

The Doom Slayer only grunted. Vega, as since the beginning of Hell on Earth, has been the one decent constant.  An occasionally nagging constant, but at least the AI had yet to back-stab the Slayer. 

Yet.

The slayer shifted in his corner.  The room was as bright as he left it, the entire room completely visible from where he sat. The bed made for a good barrier for anything that might try to-

Wait.

“The current time is 4: 36 am.” Vega spoke in his helmet again. “It’s still possible to get 1 hour and 24 minutes left of sleep before the doctors return at 6 am.”

Doctors. 

Not demons. 

Right.

He shifted again, taking a moment to stretch and crack his joints. The sting in his side was fairly numb at this point. Though, now that he was alone, and had at least  _ some _ sleep in his system, now would be good a time as any to check it.

He doesn’t know if he fell back asleep or not. The next hour and a half went by as a blur when he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the doctors were entering the room. With two security guards at the door, they wheeled in two carts.

One with medical supplies.

One with syringes.

…..

Samuel was walking down the hall when he had the pleasure of witnessing a security guard getting launched out of the Doom Slayer’s room and into the opposite wall. It almost came as a surprise to the robotic doctor that there wasn’t a spot of blood on the wall when the guard fell to the floor. Though, upon a closer inspection, the guard was indeed knocked out cold. 

“What is going on here?” Samuel asked the doctor who was cowering behind the door entrance. He already knew the answer but  double checking has always been the root of science.

“Ah, we were in the process of sedating the Doom Slayer so we could treat his wounds properly.” The Doctor quickly explained.

“Hm.” Samuel let out a hum as he heard a yelp from inside the room followed by  a enraged growl. “That was a terrible idea.”

“Yes, we’re realizing that.”

“Stay here, I will handle this.” Samuel directed the doctor before entering the Doom Slayer’s room. Just in time to see yet another guard flung into the doorframe. 

As for the Slayer himself, he was huffing while holding one doctor up by the collar while another one was on the ground,  unconscious , with a syringe in her shoulder.

“That’s enough.” Samuel watched as the Slayer’s helm snapped to attention. Even though he could not see past the visor Samuel could *feel* the eyes behind them digging into his chassis.

Two steps.

Two steps - yes, that includes stepping over the sedated doctor- was how far the Doom Slayer got before suddenly collapsing on the ground. Out cold. 

“Hm.” Hayden hummed, folding his hands behind him as he cocked his head down at the unconscious Slayer. 

It seemed the man finally succumbed to both his wounds and severe lack of sleep. Still breathing though, if the haggard breaths coming out of his helmet weren’t a clear sign. 

“Doctor, you may continue with your treatment.” Hayden simply said to the shaking figure kneeling down by the unconscious Slayer. Turning his head, he could see the guard that had been flung at the door already recovering. And the doctor still hiding out in the hall appeared uninjured. But the one with the syringe in her arm would be out for a while. Hm... “I will assist you since you are now a doctor short.  Plus you will need someone to calm the Slayer once he wakes up.”

Not that Hayden was under any delusion that he could calm the Slayer. Chances are, he’d make the man angrier just being present. But his metal chassis can take a punch better than anyone else in the room. 

And he knew the Slayer would be punching the moment he woke up.


	3. He Woke Up Punching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Doom Eternal came out and BOY does it have stuff that's 100% going into this fic. So if you haven't played/watch the game I would do that first so that way you're caught up with what's gonna be happening here.

Oh the Slayer woke up punching alright. It’s what one does when you wake up groggy and shadows are standing over you. 

Especially when one of said shadows is about roughly the same height as a hell knight.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Hayden hummed calmly as a fist collided with his chassis. The sound the contact made was a heavy clunk that sent the other doctors scurrying for cover by the walls of the room. “My apologies, Dr. Brew. You were correct to inject the sedatives even after he was  unconscious .” 

Hayden ignored the second, much more sluggish, punch to his chassis. The first punch left a dent but he had a feeling that was the worst damage he would be receiving ....for now. 

It was impressive the man could leave dents with just his bare fists.

As for Dr. Brew, she simply nodded from where she stood against the wall. Her and the other doctors were keeping a very wary eye on the Slayer, who was groaning as he attempted to roll off the bed. He might have been successful if Hayden wasn’t there to catch him and push him to lay flat. 

“Save your strength, Slayer.” Hayden drawled while the Slayer was coming to terms with the fact that he was far too drugged to do much at the moment. Though, the sedatives did nothing to quell the fury in the man’s eyes. “Your stitches will take time to heal, since your suit no longer has it’s limitless energy supply to heal you.”

That struck a nerve. And Hayden soon was able to enjoy another strike to his chassis. 

Even though what he said had been true. And the Slayer knew it. Now that Hell- and the argent energy that came from it- was gone, there was no longer a fuel source for the praetor suit to draw  it’s power from. Hayden didn’t know how much longer the suit would still function but he certainly wasn’t going to let the Slayer’s stubbornness drain it unnecessarily.

Not when he might still need it. For what Hayden wasn’t sure of just yet. But considering how they left the  Makyr world...

No.

Those concerns could be put aside. For now, at least. Not while the Slayer was insisting on sitting up.

While also trying to ignore his bandaged torso. 

So.

Infuriatingly stubborn.

\-------

The next few hours may as well have been literal hell for the Slayer.

Shit, he’d take  literal over metaphorical any day. 

He could at least shoot the literal.

Or stab.

Or  _ punch. _

Dr. Brew’s face was far too pitiful to punch. Almost any move he made caused the young doctor to flinch. Which, if she were a demon, the Slayer would have taken great pleasure in  striking fear. 

But she wasn’t a demon.

And that was infuriating. 

Fuck his brain still felt numb from the drugs.

And Hayden had left. Once the Slayer actually settled down-reluctantly- the cyborg had left to take a phone call. Now he had no one to punch.

No one familiar.

Why on earth that bastard was still in charge of anything was a mystery the Slayer had no energy to solve. 

Probably because he used the crucible-that he stole, yes, the Slayer was still a bit saucy about that- and all the technology at his disposal to help humanity stand against the demon invasion. 

Hm...and it was thanks to him the Slayer found the last Hell Priest in time...

And helped him stop the production of argent energy. Which genuinely surprised the Slayer. The man had already known argent was made from tortured souls, long before Mars when he was still with the Sentinels. 

But when did Hayden learn of that? Not to mention how much he seemed to know about the world of  Urdak and the Khan  Makyr . Or even about the Slayer and the Sentinels. 

Certainly knew more than the Slayer would expect a UAC  shmuck to know...

Slayer groaned inwardly to himself. He actually had several questions about the doctor now. But none of them he would learn without having to actually  _ ask _ the doctor himself.

Sure, maybe Hayden was genuinely interested in helping humanity.

But he was still. 

Such. 

An asshole.

And  _ fuck his brain was still too numb to be thinking about all this. _

“Al-alright then.” The Slayer snapped to attention when Dr. Brew started speaking. She kept her eyes mostly on her clipboard. Whether that was because she was actually reading from it or just avoiding eye contact, the Slayer wasn’t sure. “You’ll have to take it easy for at least two weeks. Which should be fine since you’re on permanent vacation, eh?” 

The Slayer actually raised both eyebrows at that. Had that been an attempt to make him laugh? Maybe she wasn’t as nervous as he thought. Maybe she was just awkward. 

“Anyway.” She cleared her throat and took a few more glances at her clipboard before hugging it to her chest and looking at him. “You’re not bad enough that you need to stay in bed. Just be sure not to strain yourself when walking around.”

Walking around.

Sure.

Now never say he didn’t give it the old college try. The walking part was fine. It was just. 

So. 

Boring.

The Slayer looked around the hallway he was now standing in. Listen, he  _ hated _ demons, and  Makyrs he didn’t give much care for. But dammit at least the architecture was interesting to look at! The only thing interesting in this bland hallway was the cracked, glowing screen that showed an advertisement for  glutenz chips. The fuck?

Actually, that didn’t sound too bad. 

He was tempted to have Vega open a portal back to the Fortress of Doom. He could do some light reading. Maybe tune up the praetor suit.  But then he remembered.

Vega wasn’t in the Fortress anymore.

Shit, he technically wasn’t even on Earth either. 

The Slayer lifted a hand and tapped at his helmet a few times. He heard something like static before a click. Then Vega spoke.

“Yes?” Vega asked, before Slayer could react, he added “Ah, one moment please.”

Slayer looked around the empty hallway he was currently meandering in. Someone walked by, but the moment they saw the Slayer they turned around and walked the other way. Huh.

“Apologies.” Vega spoke after a moment. “I have been moving one of my processes between different systems to avoid  Makyr detection. Luckily there are more than several communication arrays for me to keep in contact with the processes still within the praetor suit.”

Wait, what??

“Since our time on  Urdak , I have “picked up a few tricks”. Though it might be more accurate to say I’ve remembered.” Vega was kind enough to explain. And without the Slayer having to ask out loud, oh good. “One such trick is to split my process so I may coexist in disconnected systems. In short, I am both here and there.”

Huh. Not the most farfetched thing Slayer has heard. 

“I have been keeping tabs on the  Makyrs .” Vega went on. “While the threat of demons is no more, without the Khan  Makyr and argent energy, the species no longer has stable leadership nor the energy they require to prevent transfiguration.”

Right, the  Makyr’s version of death. The Slayer remembered reading the codex about it. But as far as he could see it, that just meant the  Makyrs were mortal now. About  time they joined the party.

“Also, I do not mean to switch subjects, but I count fourteen.”

What?

“Fourteen people have entered this hallway only to immediately turn around and leave.” The Slayer turned his attention back to where he was. He’d seen the one person but hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else. He thought it was just and empty hallway. “Perhaps... it is your armor?”

Slayer huffed, putting his hands on his hips. 

“... _ some _ of your armor?” Vega corrected himself. “I think the citizens here find the shoulder launcher to be intimidating.” 

Good! That’s what it’s meant to do!

And blow up demons.

Aw, but no more demons. Fuck.

“A Slayer without his armor would be an even stranger sight I’m sure.” A robotic hum came from behind. The Slayer turned to see Hayden walking down the hall. Straight toward him.

Hah. Nope.

The man turned to walk away. Which actually got a chuckle out of the cyborg.

“Now, now, Slayer. I’ve come to discuss something.” When the man didn’t stop walking, Hayden sighed. “You might get to break something.” 

The Slayer paused at that.

**Author's Note:**

> there may be some sex stuff later in the fic  
> maybe  
> I haven't decided yet


End file.
